MENAGE - Bound,gagged,stuffed DOMINATED (1st time Gang,MFM, MFMM, MFMMM ,DP,TP,White Female Shared Hard,Fast without Protection)-Volume 2 -10 Short Story Book Boxed Set Anthology

by Nicola Diaz

  Then I am brought down to my knees, and again I am teased with Axel’s cock, in my mouth. He keeps it in my mouth, thrusting into me, hard and deep, and then pulling it out of me. Then he uses his cock to slap me in the face over and over again, and then reinserts it into my mouth. I know that this is part of his game, because he is laughing out loud as he does it, and looking around the room for laughter too.

  When he brings me to my feet again the look in his eyes is cold. Almost as cold as the room we are in, as cold as the breeze between my thighs and over my nipples. It is almost as cold as the finger he is forcing inside me now, and digging deep into me. I know that this is just a precursor of what is to come tonight, and I brace myself, knowing that it will all be over too soon. Nothing that I can do could prepare me for what follows, but then again, nothing could…

  THE END

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  Blindfold Me!

  Chapter 1

  We are lined up like cattle, in straight lines, walked to the platform, paraded in front of the Vikings who have come to purchase us, and then sold to the highest bidder. I always knew that this day would come, being born into a family of slaves, but I really didn’t think that it would come so soon. I also didn’t think that the parts of myself that I liked so much, my perfect full breasts, my curvaceous thighs, my light hazel eyes and my beautiful golden locks would be what determined the price I fetched.

  I step up on the platform, and sink into myself, trying to hide the parts of me that will make me appealing to the large men with their piercing eyes, beards, and huge bulges in their pants that make me think that whatever one of these men purchases me will really make my life difficult. If this situation were any different, I might have found a few of them attractive, their masculinity coming off them with the thick beads of sweat and ale, but this situation is so far removed from anything even vaguely romantic that I cannot bring myself even to look up.

  Our auctioneer is drunk too, too drunk, and he comes up to me, lifting my face to the captive audience. I close my eyes, not wanting to see who is bidding on me, all of the Vikings sounding the same in the relative darkness. He lifts my skirt too, showing off my legs, and I try to gather my dress back over myself, to no avail. The man with his hands far up my thighs now is insistent on showing off every part of me to the men who sound like they are salivating at the mere prospect of me now.

  One voice stands out though, roaring almost as he outbids the others. Then a few more bids, and again the roaring. He really seems determined to get me. I have to see who this man is, if nothing else just to prepare myself mentally for what I know is probably coming. ‘Find him Hazel,’ I tell myself, in my head. I remind myself to keep my lips together, knowing that anything that might come out of my mouth might be seen as protestation and I might be punished for this perceived protest.

  I spot him eventually, and I feel a mixture of fear and excitement that is strange to me. Why is my cunt warming, why am I wet? I hope that he doesn’t see this, hope that the hand moving across my thigh now, feeling me a little more than he is just exposing my wares, doesn’t find my wetness. This seems more and more likely, as he pushes harder still against my skin, making me feel like he has me all alone in his tent, as though he is going to, at any moment, strip me bare and take me right here in front of all of these staring eyes.

  Bjorn seems to know that he is going to win this auction, because he says, over and over again, that he is Bjorn, and he always wins. His arrogance is attractive and repulsive all at once. I watch him, really look him over. He isn’t even looking at me anymore, focusing on what he is saying, and on his ale. He also seems more interested in all the men that have no chance at beating him in this auction now. I hear the word SOLD resounding so loudly that you would think it was a bell that went off in the inside of my head.

  I join the other females that Bjorn has purchased, and some men also. None of us look at each other though, resigning ourselves to our individual fates, although they will be all collected in the same compound, the same house mostly. Bjorn barks orders at his slave-master, and we are taken, heads bowed low, to our new home. I get my skirt to fall over my legs again, and look up for the first time in a while. I catch the faces of the other slaves, and notice that they seem more accepting of their fate that I could ever be. Already I find myself thinking of ways to escape, ways to get out of Bjorn’s clutches.

  We walk through the gates, large and obstructive, and listen as they open with a loud creak, then shut with an even louder thud. This is probably the last time that any of us will see the world outside these walls, so I immediately regret not breathing deeper on the way here. I immediately regret not looking around me more, at the trees, the birds, the wild flowers in the fields. I have many regrets, but none of these matter now. This is my new home now, at least for the moment, and I start to feel the resignation overwhelm me a little bit.

  The slave-master separates us, and the men are undressed first. We turn our eyes from them, out of respect. Still though, some of us, especially me, cannot help but steal a peek. Their cocks are all long, varying only in thickness. Some are circumcised, some not, all flaccid though. The man who just ordered that they be undressed walks up and down the row of me, pulling on some of their cocks, showing them that they do not own themselves anymore. We can only imagine what will be done to us.

  We do not have to wait long to find out either, ordered to be stripped in front of the men, in front of everyone. The male slaves are less inconspicuous about their staring, looking directly at our exposed breasts, at our cunts and asses as we are turned around, over and over again, examined more so that the males were. Our breasts are pulled, hard, and a few of them find themselves inside the mouth of this master, not the man of the house, but clearly with a significant amount of power in the house. We are ordered to wash, out in the open, and then handed slave-robes to put on. Then we are immediately given our various instructions and put to work immediately.

  Chapter 2

  After about a week of being in Bjorn’s house, and having to put up with being touched and prodded and pulled on by his drunk friends while we served them, I know that it won’t be long before I am passed around among them. I know from the other females in my position that these men are brutal lovers. This excites me, but given that I have only ever made love twice in my life, I know that I am not ready for this type of fucking. I must find a way to make myself Bjorn’s preferred slave, knowing that this will afford me certain freedoms, and also mean that at least I will be fucked by none but him.

  I wait until he is alone, and then I work myself up next to him, the words not fully formed in my head yet. When he turns to see me standing near him in his den, he looks me up and down. Then he moves in to me and takes a hand to my ass, giving it a firm squeeze in his large hand. He pulls me to him and breathes in my hair, which smells like sweat, from the days’ work and the nervous anxiety that has already worked its way up my belly to my chest. I feel like I am on fire.

  When I ask him what is on my mind, he laughs out loud, something I have said amusing him immensely. His eyes tear away my clothing now, and I feel as though I am standing naked in front of him. He stares at me dreamily, and I almost think that I see a softness there. This is almost immediately replaced by a hardness though, and then a hint of mischief. Bjorn pulls me closer to him still, sending a hand onto my thigh under my skirt. He closes his eyes as he runs his fingers up and down my firm leg.

  He stops just short of my pussy, and works his hand back down toward my knee. Again though he is moving up towards my cunt, and he doesn’t stop until he reaches it. He touches my clit lightly, and then presses down hard, his eyes open now, watching my responses to him. He looks around us for an audience,
but everyone is busy with their duties, so nobody is really interested in what the man of the house is doing to me. Bjorn almost looks disappointed. Then he is suddenly pulling me along with him, towards a part of the grounds that I have heard about but never seen. There is a structure there, simple four walls that looks like a shed, and he walks me into this space.

  There is a cage in the center of the room, and I almost want to be out of there now. Bjorn holds my face towards this cage, and I have no choice but to look at it. There are torches in the space too, but the room is still cold, still dark. I start to think that perhaps I shouldn’t have asked him; that maybe just maybe I should have accepted my fate and resigned myself to this life of slavery. I pull myself together though, trying to look like I am ready for whatever he has in store for me.

  Bjorn closes the door, and it creaks loudly and then is shut. There are a few torches on in the space, and the orange-blue flames burn softly, slowly, doing nothing for the scariness in the space. I look at Bjorn, thinking that this is the time that he will fuck me, that now is the time that he will show my why he really purchased me, and confirm for me that he, and only he, is now my owner. He walks me to the cage, and opens the door, pushing me inside. He follows me inside it, and then shuts the cage-gate. I can’t help but think that this is very unnecessary, since I am obviously not going anywhere. I cannot go anywhere.

  Bjorn pulls the string hard that is holding up my dress. I suddenly know why we are not allowed to wear our own clothes. A simple tug of the cord and my dress falls to the ground. I go for my breasts first, and then cover them with one forearm, cupping the other hand over my suddenly exposed pussy. He pulls the hand away from my cunt, looks at it intently, and a sly smile forms on his face. Then he pulls the arm covering my breasts, and holds my hands at my side hard. He looks me up and down, and then turns me slowly a few times, really examining me.

  I watch his eyes move over me, the anxiety feeding parts of me that it really shouldn’t. My breasts are suddenly fuller and firmer, the nipples on them taught. He takes one of my hard nipples between his fingers, pinches down on it hard. As I let out a moan, he moves to the other one, not because he is feeling sorry for me, but because it is as inviting, as beautiful as the first one. This nipple too is squeezed between his fingers, and then pulled away from me. I scream now.

  Bjorn smiles broadly now. He gives my nipples a harder pinch, a harder pull, and then he places one of his hands over my entire breast, squeezing again, hard and rough. He takes the nipple on the breast that is in his hand into his mouth. As he sucks on my nipple his beard grazes my breast, and not in a good way. It is rough and hard, and I hate it. He moves to the other tit, his large fingers folding easily over it. Again he is squeezing hard, again he is sucking harder. I really wish that he would just fuck me and be done with it.

  Suddenly he leaves my breasts, leaving the spit from his mouth on my nipples. It is cold and wet, making my nipples stand firmer still. Then he goes to the floor and picks up my dress, which is really just a piece of linen cloth, beige from the dust of the compound and the work that I have been doing. He tears a piece of the dress away from the rest of it, and while I am still trying to figure out what he is doing, he blindfolds me. He ties the material across my eyes so tightly that I am sure my eyes are bulging right out of my head.

  He steps away from me, and leaves me to stumble in the dark alone. I hate this feeling of helplessness. It reminds me of everything in my life up until this point, how I have never been in control of my destiny, how I have never been in possession of myself. I hate it, I really do. I go for the blindfold, but cannot even get my fingers under the linen for the tightness. I can’t even pull it off my head, because every tug pulls hard on my hair, and this hurts even more than the darkness.

  I hear Bjorn move, open the gate to the large cage, and fiddle with something in the distance somewhere. I hear chains, the agonizing sound of metal on metal. He returns a moment later, and again he has my nipples between his fingers, pulling hard. My focus though has shifted, to the sound of metal crashing to the floor. What could it be, what could these chains be that he has brought with him back into my makeshift prison? The sound of the chains returns as he bends to lift them up, and then I know exactly what they are.

  Clamps are fastened to my nipples, burning into my breast even more so than his fingers did. He pulls the chains away from me, and away from my breasts, so that I know that the chains are connected to the clamps that are now attached to my nipples. He pulls harder on the chains and seems to have attached the ends of it on the sides of the cage, because the pull on my nipples is consistent now. I stop moving, because every move back or forward leads to a more intense burning in my nipples, the pull against them intensified it seems by my own movements.

  I hear him move around me, and under the chains, then come up behind me. Sweat beads form on my breasts, and quickly run rivers down my belly. The blindfold is soaked too, in my sweat, but it is no less tight. I find the chains with my own hands and try to pull them so that the pull on my nipples is somewhat diminished. He moves my hands down so fast on the chains though that I pull them away from myself, taking the clamps with them, sending shards of fire into my breasts. I let go of the chains now, knowing that this is not allowed.

  Bjorn comes up close behind me now, and rubs himself against me. I can make out large parts of his cock through his trousers, but not the full length of it. It is thick, no doubt, and long. But just how long it actually is escapes me at the moment. I want him to take it out, I want to feel his flesh against mine. As he moves back off of me I think that this might just happen. But no, he just leaves me standing there alone again, and I listen for his footsteps away from me. I wonder what he is going to do.

  When he returns to me he is again standing behind me. He has a torch in his hands. I know this because I can feel the flames on my skin, up and down my back, a little too close. I cannot move out of the way, knowing what any movement will mean for my nipples. But I also don’t want to burn, hoping that this is not Bjorn’s plan for me. He just moves the flames closer to me, and then away though, and then too close to me again. He is toying with me.

  When he moves to the front of me I am suddenly more nervous than I was when he was behind me. He heats the sweat on my belly with the flames, and I think that it must be boiling so hot is it. He moves the flames up to me breasts, heating the clamps, so that the burn on my nipples, and inside my breasts is suddenly very real. He keeps the torch just close enough for me to know it is there, and every time he lingers a little too long on one area, I start to scream. Then he moves it away from me, only to return it a moment later.

  I hear the sound of more linen tearing, and I wonder again what this means. This second piece of cloth is wrapped around my throat tightly, and then pulled on hard until I cannot breath. Then the flames are back, but I cannot focus on this now, trying to get air into my lungs. I pull suddenly, on everything, every part of me trying to get him to loosen the fabric around my neck. I feel his eyes on my face, knowing somehow that he is enjoying this incredibly.

  Then he lets the restraints around my neck loosen just a little, and I gasp. Bjorn pulls the clamps off my nipple roughly, and pulls me down to where his cock is suddenly free from his trousers. I forces it into my mouth, and starts to fuck me all the way down my throat. “You will do nicely… you will do just nicely…” he says, as he brings himself to an orgasm in my mouth, filling my mouth with so much hot semen that I cough most of it up and spit some of it out of my mouth. He leaves me there, wondering what it is that Bjorn suddenly thinks that I will be perfect for.

  Chapter 3

  I am immediately given a little more freedom, although this is never said explicitly. I am moved out of the main servant’s quarters, into my own room, and I know that this is probably for Bjorn to have access to me whenever he wants to. I also receive less and less hard work, freeing me up to make myself look even more beautiful than I know I already am. This new beautiful enta
ils just combing my hair though, because I am given a comb. I spend more time combing my hair in the recent while than I remember ever doing so in my whole life. Why I need to make myself look better for Bjorn though really escapes me.

  When I am taken from my bed on night, and brought down to the shed from the other day with Bjorn, I wonder why he will not just make love to me in his bedroom. I find out quickly though why I have been brought to the shed again, the sound of drunken Vikings filtering up to me as I approach the door, and am pushed inside. I stumble into the room, my eyes on the many men in it, searching for Bjorn. I don’t see him immediately, but when I find him he is looking at me directly, sipping on a large pitcher of ale. I know that this is probably going to be a strange experience, but no stranger, I tell myself, than the last time I was in this room.

  Bjorn comes up to me, through the crowd of ten, maybe twelve men. I recognize some of them from the auction, knowing that they too had wanted me, really wanted me. My new owner probably intends to show off his purchase to these men, and pass me around amongst them. But now that I am Bjorn’s preferred slave, I know that the possibility of me being fucked by any of these Vikings is slim. He walks me through the room, past men who cannot resist groping me with the large fingers. My ass is touched, my breasts. Then one of the men puts his hand directly on my pussy over my dress and I think that he will push his finger inside me at any moment.